


Err

by Chisai236



Series: Houseplant Flowey [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Frisk/Flowey Friendship, Gen, Houseplant Flowey AU, Non-Binary Frisk, Overworld AU, Post-Pacifist Route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 20:20:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5062708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chisai236/pseuds/Chisai236
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[To be mistaken or incorrect; To do wrong] – Frisk brings Flowey up to the surface.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Err

 

 

Frisk, even to a human would be seen as only a child. To a monster though, who's lifespan could double or even triple the average humans, they are practically a baby – protected as such, and treated as such. Generally, anyhow.

 

Because, despite being an infant to them. Frisk had nearly the entire monster race looking up to them. Many monsters, especially those closest to Frisk, trusted their judgment and felt a kind of loyalty to them. Some monsters even referred to Frisk as the heir of the Dreemurr throne. Even though Asgore and Toriel would most likely outlive them.

 

So even with all this regard, even with all this trust Frisk had accumulated over their time around monsters. Even Frisk's closest friends and admirers stared in awe, disbelief and slight horror when one day. Seemingly out of the blue. Frisk went back to the Underground, only to return with a large yellow flower secured in a handmade flowerpot.

 

That yellow flower had a face, and could talk.

 

It's only been a few years now since the monsters escaped the Underground to settle at the base of Mount Ebott. Which meant all of them knew the story of Frisk's heroics by now. So they all in an instant recognized who, and what, that yellow flower was...

 

 

* * *

 

 

“F-Frisk, my child, what are you doing?” Toriel is understandably anxious when she sees Frisk return from their day-or-so retreat to the underground; flowerpot and (previously killer plant) in hand.

 

“Saving the last trapped monster.” Frisk said simply, almost authoritatively, as they pass Toriel in the doorway of their home and walk in casually with Flowey as if nothing is amiss.

 

“Yes, but... dear that's...” She mumbles.

 

“Hm?” Frisk sets Flowey down on the dinning room table, then bounds off into the kitchen. The sound of lightly clattering of ceramics and glass can be heard, with the sound of running water following soon after. Frisk's voice raises above the noise. “Did you say somethin', mom?”

 

Toriel is in a stunned silence. She didn't know what to say. What _can_ you say when your child brings home the force that single-handedly tried to kill your child and your entire race? She glances over to the living golden flower. His head down and his petals pulled inwards. Concealing his face. He looks dormant, almost. Like he's sleeping. Is he? Could flower monsters sleep? She must have been staring at him aimlessly for a while, because as Frisk re-enters the dinning room, they make a note of her puzzling gaze.

 

“He's been like that for a while now... Ever since I started carrying him up and out of the underground.” Frisk approaches Flowey, and for a moment they look all around him, as if expecting to notice something physically wrong on the outside. Which all they could notice is that his colors seem a bit duller. Not as vibrant as they usually are. “I figure since he's a flower, he just needed some water, but...”

 

Frisk pauses for a minute, and sets the cup of water down in front of the flowerpot for a moment. “Flowey?” They say, hoping to rouse him. “Flowey, are you awake?”

 

One of six petals that frames the flower's head peels back slowly. The one evidently concealing his right eye. It seems devoid of any emotion or reaction. It's just _there_. Not even really looking at Frisk or acknowledging them.

 

“Flowey?” Frisk repeats his name, but he only re-covers his eye as a response. Giving no reaction grater than that to Frisk calling for him.

 

“Flowey, do you want some water?” Frisk picks the glass back up and holds it near the flower's head. He doesn't move.

 

“Hey...” Frisk reaches up and with a single finger and taps Flowey's head lightly. His body reflexively curls inwards and away from Frisk's hand. Avoiding contact with them unconsciously. By seeing this, Frisk can feel themself getting upset. Not in an angry or frustrating way, but a sad and slightly morose one. Why did Flowey look so... dead?

 

Not knowing what else to do while Flowey won't respond. Frisk simply tips the cup of water over the flowerpot. Letting it's contents pour into it and fill the dried up soil concealing the plant roots.

 

Then, as if suddenly set on fire (though quite the opposite), Flowey springs alive and lets out a shrill cry. This outburst has Frisk jumping up and stumbling backwards in their surprise. Even so much as to fall to the ground when their foot contacts and trips over the garbage bin behind them. Immediately, Toriel rushes over and stands between Frisk and Flowey. Shooting Flowey one of her famously intimidating glares. She fully expects for Flowey to attack Frisk, and so she stays where she is. After all, that is what he has done in the past. It's only fair to assume repetitive behavior of anyone.

 

But no, Flowey does not attack, instead, he sits there in his flowerpot shivering and glaring at Frisk. His sharp look is a bit concerning, but he didn't contort his face horrifyingly as he is capable of doing. Which is somewhat an improvement in behavior, perhaps.

 

“What the hell were you thinking!? T-that water was p-practically frozen!” He shouts at Frisk, seemingly unfazed by Toriel's presence. He shivers violently from petals to leaves. Which are drawn around like arms around his 'body'. His roots and the soil they are dug into are completely soaked in the frigid water. Making him uncomfortably cold. He's awake and aware now though. Not at all as dormant as before.

 

“Uhm... Sorry?” Frisk hadn't at all considered the temperature of the water. It probably was a little on the colder side, come to think of it. Frisk hadn't taken into account that Flowey isn't a warm blooded creature, so he has no way to warm himself up from the chill. It made sense that the cold would bother him, Frisk quickly realizes.

 

In their defense though, Frisk had never needed to consider this while watering a plant in the past. The thought hadn't even occurred to them.

 

“Hey,” Flowey finally takes a look around at his surroundings. Realizing that he is in a very different location from anything he'd ever seen. He can tell he's in a house, a rather cozy and warm one as well, but why? How? The last thing he remembers seeing is Hotland in the Underground. So where is this place? This certainly didn't look like any place around there. Most structures in Hotland are metallic, mechanical, and made of rock. Not to mention, very, _very_ hot.

 

“Where the hell am I? A house...?”

 

“Ya, a surface house.” Frisk rights themselves; standing again after falling. They dust their clothing then walk over to the table and Flowey. Picking his flowerpot up by it's edges without a second thought.

 

Frisk then moves over to the dinning room window, and pulls its curtains open. They set Flowey onto the windowsill. Letting him see for a moment the pleasant view provided for those looking out. It is of the monster settlement as it's built on the surface. In the distance, the base of Mount Ebott can also be seen.

 

“...”

 

“So?” Frisk looks down at Flowey expectant of a good reaction. Their hands even tap-tapping against the wood frame of the window in waiting excitement of it. He had a reaction, for sure, but it wasn't as good a one as Frisk had been hoping for. Flowey looks more dazed now than anything else.

 

“This... This has to be a dream.” Flowey says flatly. “A sick, sick dream...” He turns his head back and up at Frisk with a similarly neutral expression. “There's no way your _that_ stupid... You'd have to be a complete moron to... to bring _**me**_ here...”

 

Frisk simply shrugs, smiling ever brightly down at Flowey. “I guess I'm a moron then!”

 

Flowey suddenly encounters a conflict somewhere deep within himself, and finds it increasingly difficult to look at Frisk. Even only a little. So he turns away from them. Looking over at... something. Anything else would be better to stare at than Frisk. For some reason he can't. He just _can't._

 

“L-lady!” He says looking instead to Toriel who is watching them both without blinking. “C-can you believe this kid! You should get their brain checked! S-somethin's wrong with 'em Ha! Haha... haaaa...” Flowey tries to laugh it off, but Toriel only glares at him. Offering no sort of support or relief to the confusing situation.

 

He's not welcome here, and he knows it.

 

“I don't need my brain checked!” Frisk laughs a bit and picks Flowey's pot up and holds it at their arms length. Frisk is pouting a bit, but a smile is still on their face. “And what if I do, whose fault is that? Huuuh?” Frisk giggles. They are trying to go along with Flowey's banter in a friendly way. Something that is common among them and their other monster friends. Flowey, however, is too bewildered at this point to even offer a response.

 

When a long and awkward pause passes. Frisk yet again takes the initiative to act and picks Flowey's flowerpot up. He doesn't even react to the movement, and just continues to stare out into an empty space.

 

“Well, I guess I'll show you around now!”

 

It is strange how, in that moment. Despite their differing feelings towards Frisk and what they are doing. Both Toriel and Flowey stare at Frisk with mirroring looks of concern and mild horror. Frisk, however, didn't seem to have a care in the world. That, or they are intentionally ignoring all of them.

 

Frisk is only doing what they think is best, and that is all they will ever do.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if this story is a bit lackluster, it's meant to be a set up for additional stories that are hopefully more interesting.


End file.
